


listen; can you hear the music in the air?

by BlackBlood1872



Series: sing along if you know the words [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M, MAG 163 In The Trenches, Post-Apocalypse, Singing, Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 5, The Mechanisms Were The Archivist's College Band, The Slaughter, i really don't know how to tag this. its just talking and singing, martin finds out jon was in a band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBlood1872/pseuds/BlackBlood1872
Summary: One thing Jon never expected from the apocalypse was for his past to come back to haunt him. The past few years, maybe, everything he's done since he recorded that first statement, since he joined the Institute—but not his life before that. With the exception of a certain book, his life had been normal. As far from spooky as you could get.But when they enter the domain of the Slaughter, he hears the faint strains of familiar music. A song he knows all too well, because one of the voices singing is his.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: sing along if you know the words [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879174
Comments: 16
Kudos: 324





	listen; can you hear the music in the air?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've become obsessed with The Mechanisms again thanks to the tma season break and then I found the "the mechs were jon's band" tag and, well. Here we are.  
> vague tags for violence and a cannibalism mention? they show up in the song lyrics I used here but I don't think they're enough to actually tag.  
> also I hate the new jonmartin tag. why is jon's name so long now. why is that necessary.

One thing Jon never expected from the apocalypse was for his past to come back to haunt him. The past few years, maybe, everything he's done since he recorded that first statement, since he joined the Institute—but not his life before that. With the exception of a certain book, his life had been normal. As far from spooky as you could get.

But when they enter the domain of the Slaughter, he hears the faint strains of a familiar song. Not anything like he heard around Melanie, the few times he thought to listen, and not anything like he imagined of Grifter's Bone. No, this is… personally familiar.

At first he can't place it. It's quiet enough that he can't hear lyrics, doesn't even know there _are_ any to hear. As they walk, the music grows, sometimes these familiar tones, sometimes bagpipes, sometimes a grating wail he's never encountered before.

The battleground follows soon after, and the nagging feeling of deja vu falls to the wayside. There is only the sound of gunshots and fighting and the _statement_ dragging itself out of his throat and spilling onto the ground before him like acid and blood.

After that, though, they pull themselves away from the heart of the Slaughter and all they're left with is the distant cry of unwilling warriors, and the music. The music that shifts and echoes, that tugs at his blood like a battle cry. Bagpipes loudest above the rest, but so much underneath it. And, again, those hauntingly familiar notes that burrow into his eardrums and scratch at the back of his mind; a suspicion, a mounting dread. It can't be…

But, of course, it is.

A voice breaks through the muddle, suddenly crystal clear.

_‘Upon their rancid soldier-flesh our bayonets will dull,  
‘And their blood will run like wine!’_

It's not his own voice but one he knows almost as well, even after all their years apart, and nostalgia lances through him at the sound of it. More voices join in, and he can hear his own, mixed in and almost hidden under the others.

_‘Take no prisoners, give no quarter,  
‘Show them all the colour of their entrails on the floor,  
‘The Kaiser's men are cattle to the Slaughter,  
‘And their blood will run like wine!’_

"Jon? What is it, is something wrong?" Martin asks and it's only then that Jon realises he's stopped, eyes closed and face tilted towards the sky. The music has no definitive source, but it helps him focus on the one melody in the cacophony of this battleground. The particular anthem is part of a greater whole, but it repeats back on itself, Gunpowder Tim's madness encapsulated by this place.

"I'm fine," Jon says after a moment. He shakes his head, hoping to clear it, but the melody sticks with him. He helped write it, after all, and it's much closer to his heart than any other song here. "Nothing's wrong, I just… heard something I hadn't expected."

Martin still looks concerned, which. Fair. Music in the Slaughter's domain is much more dangerous than it otherwise would have been, in a normal world. "Unexpected how?" he asks warily.

Jon purses his lips and glances off to the side. "…can you hear it?" he asks instead.

"I can hear plenty, but it's all a mess. I'm trying not to listen to any of it, honestly."

Jon chuckles. "Fair enough. Here, try and listen for this," he suggests and starts to hum along with the song. It's fast-paced, not meant for humming, but he knows this song. He's hummed it plenty while trying to give it words.

Martin closes his eyes and attempts to hum with Jon, cocking his head and turning slowly, as if that will help isolate anything. And maybe it does, because Martin falters briefly, then sings the current lyrics. He stumbles through them before he gets to the end of a stanza and the slower pace allows him to repeat: "—their blood will run like wine."

He opens his eyes and looks disquieted. He clears his throat. "Well. That's. That's definitely something I'd expect from the Slaughter. But I didn't think their music had lyrics?"

"I don't think it does, usually," Jon muses, then corrects, "it doesn't. But this… wasn't supposed to be a song for them. It certainly wasn't when I wrote it, but I must admit it fits."

Martin takes a moment to stare blankly at him. Then: "Sorry, when _you wrote it_?" he demands. Jon fiddles with his glasses.

"Yes. I wrote that, back in uni. Something like eight years ago now? It's part of Gunpowder Tim's origin story, but they've cut this section out from the rest."

"You wrote this song," Martin repeats. Jon huffs, crossing his arms and scowling at the man.

" _Yes_. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Martin waves a hand meaninglessly. "Because I've never heard you sing? Or maybe 'cause I've never seen you write any songs, or because you never _mentioned_ it? I'm not the one with spooky knowledge powers, here, I never knew this about you!"

Jon grunts, conceding the point. He… probably should have mentioned it at some point; while they were at the safe house, maybe, if not before. He isn't _embarrassed_ by his band, but it wasn't something he was going to bring up while attempting to look professional in the archives.

"I was in a band in uni," he explains. "We called ourselves The Mechanisms and we were a storytelling musical cabernet. This song is part of Gunpowder Tim's story arc. It's actually quite annoying that the song isn't continuing; I keep waiting for the next section but it always loops back to the start of _'Tim goes crazy'_ and it's making me _itch_."

Martin very obviously doesn't know how to unpack any of that, given the look on his face. Jon grimaces and prepares to say they should just drop it and continue on when Martin asks, "What's the next part?"

Jon blinks. Then he grins and falls into the narration like it's only been a day since he last sang it, rather than years.

_"So Gunpowder Tim cut a bloody red path,  
"Through cannon and through infantry, dealing out his wrath.  
"Battalions were gathered, and charged with his destruction,  
"But all of them fell to his maddened corruption…"_

Jon continues, a parabolic cadence, and the prose reminds Martin of the poetry he tries so hard to write. There's no music behind the words, but he can almost hear it in the rhythm.

And maybe the Slaughter's melody bends around them, shifting with the Archivist's words, changing to fit to this part of the song. Soft violin and plucked guitar strings, much sweeter than before. And then, swelling louder as Jon describes the fight, a desperate attack and escape, speaking fast enough to risk tripping over his words.

 _"The pod was shielded hard against the force of twenty suns,  
"But Tim couldn't get the visor closed before the fuse was done.  
"So when the lunar cannon fired and blew the moon out of the sky,  
"The piercing brightness of the blast burned out our hero's eyes.  
"And with the force of every weary soldier's tunnel-bomb,  
"The explosion ripped through the full moon's heart and like that_—!" Jon sucks in a breath and the music around them stops, suddenly, leaving only a faint strum of a violin chord.

_"The moon was gone."_

Silence falls around them. Jon breathes heavily, eyes wide and lips parted, and Martin's sure Jon's heart must be beating as hard as his.

"Wow," Martin whispers. Jon startles, whipping around to stare at him. Then, his lips stretch into a delighted smile that makes him look years younger, unburdened by the horror of the world.

Jon sweeps into a theatrical bow. "Thank you, _thank you_ ," he says, a cocky drawl turning his voice into something entirely new. Martin finds himself giggling, here amidst the horror of war and on the edge of a bloodied battleground; here, across from the man he loves, who is still human enough to slip into a role years old, something fun and playful and not shadowed by the fear in the air, thick enough to choke on. In this moment, it's easy to—maybe not _forget_ , but to set aside the mess their lives have become; a coat shed after stepping inside, ready to be put on again whenever they decide to leave this small moment of respite.

For leave they must, eventually. But until then, Martin is content to smile and clap while Jon plays out a character he thought he left behind.

* * *

Jon starts singing, later on, when Martin's almost certain they're just a few metres from the border of this domain. It's quiet to start, more mumble and tune than proper singing. Martin sways his head with it, helped along by the Slaughter's ambient melody shifting again. A moment later and he can make out the words, Jon's voice gaining substance.

_"They're boiling us, they're boiling us,  
"One lead sheet between the four of us.  
"Thank your lucky stars that you taste so good,  
"‘Cause you wouldn't want your corpse to go to waste."_

Jon goes back to humming. Martin rewinds those lyrics.

"Wait, _what!?_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Song used: [Gunpowder Tim vs The Moonkaiser](https://youtu.be/mJq_q7LlOig), specifically the subsections "Tim Goes Crazy", "Teatime With The Kaiser", and "Gassed Last Night".  
> I had trouble tagging this, as I usually do, so if there's anything I should add, let me know (I've got a [tumblr](https://blackblood1872.tumblr.com) if you'd rather tell me there).


End file.
